


Shattered

by paint_me_a_revolution



Series: The Magnus Library [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Dissociation, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25776871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paint_me_a_revolution/pseuds/paint_me_a_revolution
Summary: Sometimes, Gerry's the only thing holding Michael together.
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley
Series: The Magnus Library [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870033
Comments: 10
Kudos: 67





	Shattered

The mirror was shattered. Gerry didn’t know when Michael had done that. Had he been gone, or was he just too deep in his own mind to notice? Improbable. But the mirror was shattered and Michael was standing in front of it, staring into his own fractured reflection with unfocused eyes. _The mind doesn’t shatter,_ Michael always said. It didn’t shatter, but something had to. Gerry knew because Michael had told him once, that breaking things felt like a release, an escape. From what, he hadn’t said. Gerry hadn’t asked.

“Are you all right?” A terrible question, really, when Michael clearly wasn’t all right and there was glass all over the bathroom tile, but Gerry asked it anyway. He watched Michael’s head bob, maybe a yes and maybe a no. Maybe it was both. “Michael.” Not a question. A plea. And it fell heavy in the buzzing quiet. Gerry stepped over the broken glass as carefully as he could, ignoring the crunch of it under his boots. It wasn’t until he could see his own reflection next to Michael’s in the ruined glass that Michael finally looked at him.

“I didn’t want to look anymore,” he said. He sounded like he was a thousand miles away. “I didn’t want to see.”

See what, Gerry wanted to ask. He already knew. “It’s only your reflection,” he murmured, reaching up to cup Michael’s round cheek with one hand. Carefully, he stroked away a tear with his thumb, and then did the same to the tear that took its place. Michael’s lower lip quivered, but he didn’t cry any harder. That was the thing about Michael. His tears were never more than a slow trickle, like condensation rolling down a windowpane.

“It isn’t _me._ ” Michael turned desperate eyes on Gerry. “It isn’t _me,_ and I couldn’t look at it anymore.” His tone was almost begging, and it broke Gerry’s heart.

“We’ve got work tomorrow,” he said, instead of voicing the dozen comforts that crawled to the tip of his tongue. “Do you want me to call in?” Michael didn’t answer, so Gerry made the call. “Right, I’m calling in. Would you…would you come sit on the couch, at least? I’ll make you a cuppa, get you some water. Anything.”

Michael nodded, definitively this time. Gerry supposed that would have to do.


End file.
